take his last leave of him. Sir Arthur was asleep, with his thin, pallid face resting on the arm of his fair and youthful companion.

"You are just in time to say Farewell,' and to receive his last blessing," said Frances, with a sweet and cheerful voice."1 have seen death before, Hubert," she added in a whisper, “and surely the fearful change which immediately precedes death, has here taken place. How good and gracious our heavenly Father is! You see, my Hubert, had your scheme succeeded, still we should have wept together to-night over the corpse of this our best and dearest friend. All your exertions would have proved fruitless."

She ceased speaking, for she perceived that the sound of her voice disturbed the sleeper. Once, and only once, when they had watched about an hour beside his couch, the dying patriarch opened his eyes, without endeavouring to raise his head from the arm of his loving and tender child. He saw Hubert, his face bathed in tears, his hands joined in prayer, kneeling beside him. Frances guided his feeble hand till she had placed it on the head of her brother, and the old man felt what she had done, and smiled. With a voice still calm and distinct, he blessed his repentant son, and then he said, "Come near now and kiss me, my children." He was silent for a few moments, his eyes still gazing on his grandson; then smiling, as he closed them, he said, You see I am not mad, my son!" He sunk into so gentle a doze, that his breathing became less and less audible. They knew not, till some moments after, that he had ceased to breathe. Not a sigh was heaved, not a feature disturbed-all was peace.

FROM THE PERSIAN.

What time the sun, at this sweet season,
The east with transient beauty stains.
Say, mortal, dost thou know the reason
Why the bird of morn complains?
"Day's bright mirror,"-thus he sings,
"To me a mournful truth discloses ;
A night of life has spread its wings,

And fled, while man in sloth reposes."

TO THE PRINCESS ALEXANDRINA VICTORIA,

BY W. KENNEDY.

Princess! the weal or woe of many,

May, on heaven's will, depend on thee;
It then befits thee, more than any,
To be from vain illusion free.

If youthful thoughts, at random straying,
Should paint the splendour of a crown,
Think of the iron cares still weighing
The weary head that wears it down.
On history's page thou may'st discover
A lesson for rebellious pride;
How kings and queens, a few years over,
Have all, without exception, died !
"Twill tell you how a cruel Mary,

A good queen Bess, triumphant Anne,
And more, whose reputations vary,
As good or ill they dealt to man.
The sovereign who would live for ever,
Enthroned in an eternal sphere,
Must counsel ask of God, and never
Reject his laws while ruling here.
No brow majestic beams so brightly
As that where placid wisdom dwells ;
No breast imperial beats so lightly

As that where tender mercy dwells.

TALES AND SKETCHES OF THE BRIGANDS.

THE LAST DEED OF GARBONE.

(Concluded from page 41.)

The ca

It was noon, and the travellers dismounted under a spreading tree to repose themselves and their mules. non, who never travelled without a due portion of creature comforts, which he had a strong liking for, directed Masetto to display a cold capon, and to put a flask of very drinkable wine into a cold mountain-brook which ran bubbling by the -forest path. The meal was not ended, when it fell out, ac

cording to the good father's expectations, that some of Garbone's gang discovered them. The first intimation they received of the presence of their visitors, was the muzzle of a gun being poked through the boughs of a thicket on the rock opposite them, and a hoarse voice crying out with a thousand imprecations for their money. Masetto thought it was all over with them; but the priest called out without the least emotion, “We are poor travellers, a priest and his servant; what we have is at your service; but spare our lives, for the sake of the blessed Mother of Heaven and all the Saints."

The muzzle of the gun was withdrawn; and the gentlemen to whom it belonged, accompanied by four others of his freternity, made their appearance. They were fine-looking, able-bodied raggamuffins; but their long hair and mustachios, and the expression of their countenances, gave them a disagreeable and fierce look. They were dressed in a coarse but fantastic manner, every man having in his garb some attempt at finery, which ill accorded with the dirtiness and poverty of the rest of his clothing. They wore long daggers, and pistols stuck in their belts; some of them had, besides, swords; all were armed with carbines, and not a man but a rosary, or a relic, or some other outward and visible token of his religion stuck about him. They surrounded the canon and his man, and having searched for their weapons, and found none but the knives with which they were eating, they bound their arms behind them, and bade them prepare to go before their chief, who they said was within a short distance. While this ceremony was being performed by some of the rogues, the others finished the flask and the capon which the canon and Masetto had been employed upon when they were interrupted.

The canon offered nothing like resistance; but gave the thieves now and then a ghostly exhortation, or a slight recommendation to pursue the paths of virtue and piety, and not to bind his arms too tightly; managing to apply his texts as to make a favourable impression on the banditti, whose superstition he was perfectly well acquainted with.

All being ready, the prisoners were marched off, followed by three of the brigands, the others staying behind to pursue their lawful vocation of robbing passengers. After half an

hour's walk through circuitous paths, they arrived at a rock, which they began to ascend. From the top of this rock the robbers' retreat was discernible. A small dell, shut in by high rocks, and which, from its position, was inaccessible to all but those who knew the country, had been pitched upon by Garbone for his head quarters. A range of low buildings at the further end appeared to be the dwellings of the troop, and a great portion of the green was planted with olive-trees and vines. A shrill whistle from one of the robbers was answered by some one from the dell, and the party began to descend with the caution which the steep path rendered necessary. The captives were conducted to the building, and entered a long room, which appeared to be a sort of common hall. At the fire-place, some men, of a similar appearance to those by whom the travellers had been taken, were employed in cooking; others were playing with cards and dice in different parts of the chamber; and at the upper end, with a moody look, and apart from the rest, sat one, who, from his stature and appearance, the canon had no doubt was the chief-the redoubted Garbone. To him they were soon led; when the canon, in answer to his inquiries, 'told him that he and his follower were upon a journey to the abbot of the monastery of Santa Maria della Salute, to receive some money due to his own church, when he had been stopped by the good gentlemen who had now done him the honour of introducing him. Garbone, although he looked extremely ill-tempered, happened to be in one of his most gracious moods. He welcomed the canon with great politeness for a robber, and said he was glad to see him for several especial reasons; the first, because his troop was mainly in want of a priest, for, although they were thieves, yet they had consciences, and it was so long since they confessed (having killed their last confessor in a brawl), that half of them were ready to desert, that they might unburden their bosoms, and obtain absolution; secondly, because he himself was going to be married (Masetto was ready to fly at the brigand's throat, but the canon trod upon his toe, and restrained him); and thirdly, because he should have a good round ransom for his captive.

The canon had seen a good deal of the world, and was more than a match for a more cunning man than Garbone, L. 35. 1.

I

even in his own way. He took his bantering quietly, offered his ghostly services with a good grace, said he was ready to send for the ransom if his servant might be permitted to fetch it; and, in short, so won upon the robber, that after a quarter of an hour's talk he had learnt from him the fact of his having carried off Lissa, who was then unharmed in one of the inner chambers, and that he meant to be married to her on the morrow in the forest chapel.

"A pious intention, for marriage is a holy ordinance," said the priest," and right gladly shall I perform the ceremony; but I beseech ye, good captain, to let me depart as soon as it is done, for I have much to do; and as it is only reasonable that you should be paid for my night's entertainment, name the ransom, and let Nicolo, my attendant here, away and fetch it for thee. By sparing not his beast," he said, looking significantly at Masetto, "he may reach the monastery by midnight; and the abbot, as he loves me, will send what I require; and to-morrow, by the time the lark has chaunted his matin song, my good follower may be back with the means of rescuing his master from this place."

Masetto understood what this meant, and expressed his readiness to travel all night on such an errand. Garbone mused for a few minutes, and then said, "All that you say, father, seems fair enough; but I have so often been taken in by men of your profession, that I trust none of them willingly. However, for this once I will run some risk. Thy man shall go; but look, varlet, as thou valuest thy master's head, look that thou bring back the coin by day-break to the forest chapel."

Garbone then fixed as a ransom for the canon four thousand scudi; and, ordering Masetto's beast to be made ready, directed one of his gang to mount the canon's horse, and accompany the messenger to the last outpost, and there await his return. Masetto bade the canon farewell, whe pressed his hand significantly as they parted.

The barber and the brigand rode onwards, and in the course of his progress found his companion was a great simpleton. He left him at a stone cross in the road to await his return.

The canon had requested his friend, the cavalier, to have his troop at a little village called the Three Bridges and